There's Blood on Your Hands
by A. E. Stover
Summary: Sniper!Lance comes to some disturbing realizations.


His earpiece rang clear. _"Ranger Blue, this is Black Lion. Red Lion on your nine. Ready on your call. Over."_

Lance fixed the scope lens on the doors to the warehouse. "No visual of target. Ah—" He saw through the lens one of the door creak open. Someone slipped out through the doors, a thick cloak over their head. There was a distinct silver mark on the side of the cloak. It looked like a triangle placed in a circle. _Bingo._

"This is Ranger Blue. I have a visual. Target emerging from the south exit, thirty meters from the mark. Red Lion, maintain your position. Move in on my call. Over."

His finger curved around the trigger, ready to fire at any notice—just in case. He watched the figure move quietly across the lot of the warehouse, looking over their shoulder and ducking, as if they knew they were being watched from afar. Suddenly, the figure broke into a run. Lance's finger remained on the trigger. His eyes never left the stranger fleeing the warehouse. "Target is fast approaching. Maintain your positions. Over."

The figure slowed down, the cloak slipping down to reveal a mess of tangled dark hair. They pulled the cloak up and started to run again. They were very close to the mark, now.

"Engage target in ten… Nine… Eight… Seven…"

The figure stumbled over their feet, but it didn't interfere with Lance's ETA.

"Six… Five… Four…"

He watched their target racing to the end of the lot, watched them climb up the fence. Things couldn't have gone more perfectly.

"Three… Two… One…"

The cloak slipped off the stranger as they climbed the fence. The stranger tried too snatch it back up, but they were too late. The stranger took a wild look around, and through the magnified zoom of his scope lens, Lance saw clearly the exposed face of their target. She looked like she couldn't be more than fourteen years old. She looked like she was crying. She looked scared.

Lance couldn't make the call.

His earpiece crackled with a single voice. " _Ranger Blue, on your call."_

Lance kept his eye on the girl as she climbed the rest of the way up the fence and jumped down.

" _Ranger Blue."_

She didn't jump down the right way. She looked like she hurt her ankle. She was clutching it in her hands. Her shoulders were shaking. Slowly, she got up. She limped quickly down the street.

" _Blue, I'm in position. Make the— She's heading this way, what do you want me to— Lance. —Shit, Lance, are you there? Lance!"_

 _"This is Yellow Diamond, I'm heading toward Ranger Blue's position."_

 _"Green Beetle is scanning for interference. Black Lion, cover Red Lion. Red Lion, move in on three. One… Two… Thre—"_

Lance clutched his head. "No! She's just a kid!"

Three shots echoed in the distance. Someone's scream was cut short. Lance froze. That was a masculine voice. Was it— Was that Keith? Oh god, was— Was he—

Lance looked through the scope lens and saw his world end.

He pulled the trigger.

Then he emptied his stomach on the floor.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Someone pushed a cup of coffee in front of his face. Lance looked up.

"Oh. Hey, Shiro. Fancy seein' you here. Y'know," Lance gestured around him, "since this is the med bay. And you're fine. And not Keith. Who's not fine."

"He _is_ fine." Shiro reached over and closed Lance's hands around the Styrofoam cup. "He's awake now. He wants to see you."

Lance stared down at the coffee in the cup. It smelled nice. Probably tasted like hot sludge, though. But wait, Keith wasn't the one who made it. Keith was probably still bleeding out when this was brewed.

Who else drank coffee on the team? Pidge. Pidge made good coffee.

Lance took a sip.

It tasted like black sludge.

"Sorry if it's… a little off." Shiro sounded sheepish. "It's the first time I made it. Coffee's not really my thing. I'm more of a tea person."

Lance chugged the coffee down in one go. He squeezed his eyes shut and pursed his lips, forcing him to swallow every last drop. Then he sighed, blinking open his eyes and cracked a grin on his face. "Oh, boy! _That's_ the stuff! Wow, our fearless leader can do anything! And gee, would you look at the time?" Lance picked himself up from the bench and jerked a thumb vaguely over his shoulder. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I really gotta go and do that thing, you know? With the other thing, and the person, and the other _other_ thing…"

Shiro frowned. "Lance, it's okay to be upset."

Lance blew a raspberry and laughed. "Upset? Who's upset? Not me, no siree! I'm as happy as a— a— a kid in a candy store. Upset? Psshhh, _please,_ Shiro. C'mon, I've been doing this for a year now. You think I can't handle a bit of stress?"

Shiro stood up. "I just thought that maybe you needed someone to talk to—"

"Because I can handle a bit of stress. I can. I totally can."

"Lance, we're just worried for you—"

" _I can handle it!"_

His hands were fists at his sides. His breaths came out in short pants. His shoulders were tense, and a cold sweat had broken out on his back. He felt angry. And guilty. Like he shouldn't be feeling this way at all; he shouldn't be feeling angry, he should be feeling—he should be feeling horrible, after what happened. He should be feeling like a— like a—

Like a murderer.

They killed a fourteen-year-old girl. Shot her right in the head. They killed her.

 _He_ killed her.

He— He pulled the trigger. He saw Keith bleeding out and his world ended. Then he saw her raise the gun to Keith's head. So he pulled the trigger. He killed her. He pulled the trigger. He killed her. Her death was on him. He killed her. Her blood— Her blood was on his hands. He killed her.

"Lance. Talk to me. Tell me what you're thinking."

Lance squeezed his eyes shut. He felt himself folding inwards, dropping to the ground.

There was blood on his hands. His hands were cold.

 _He_ was cold.

"Lance."

Lance sucked in a breath. Slowly, he straightened up. "I'm fine, Shiro," he said quietly. "Sorry about this, I'm— I'll talk to Keith."

Shiro stared at him in silence. He clapped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it.

Then he pulled Lance into a tight, tight hug.

"You're gonna be fine," he said. "You're gonna be fine."

Lance didn't feel like he would, but he could try to believe that he would.


End file.
